Good Guys
by afullmargin
Summary: "Sometimes good guys gotta do bad things to make the bad guys pay."


**Rating**: PG

**Spoilers**: None major, Season 6 timeline relevant.

**Notes**: I do love a good banter fic, even when it's on a hard topic.

**Prompt**: comment_fic - Any, any, "Sometimes good guys gotta do bad things to make the bad guys pay."

**Warnings**: Implied torture.

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 7/2012

* * *

Michael picks up a duffel bag loaded with guns tools that had seemed innocuous to anyone who didn't see the fire in his eyes, the way his hands shook – Sam later swears that he's never seen Michael Westen sweating a decision, but his right hand's got a twitch that he tries to hide by gripping the strap of the bag even tighter.

"Where are you going, Michael?" Madeline asks, her voice pitching up a notch as he throws open the loft door without answering. "Damn it, Sam… what the hell's going on here? Where's he going?"

"Maddie…" Sam starts and then licks his lips, taking another beer out of the fridge and opening it before handing it over to her. "He's gonna go talk to someone that might know where Anson is."

Madeline takes the beer, but stares down at it a long moment and then lights a cigarette. Halfway to the filter, she quietly asks; "What're the tools for, Sam? Is he breaking into some kind of fortress or something?"

The squeak to her voice says she already has a good idea what they're for, but she has to hear it from Sam. She doesn't want to believe it, hell – nobody wants to believe the lengths Michael's going to since Fiona turned herself in. Sam can't help but blame himself, and as he stares down into the amber depths of his beer it goes flat on his tongue. He should be the one doing the dirty work, should at least be there for support – instead Jesse's flying wingman and he's even more sketchy about it.

Of course he is, he might look like a coldhearted bastard, but when it comes down to it he couldn't go that far. They all know that none of them have dumped enough marbles to go that far.

He hopes Michael doesn't too, that he'll find any other way. Honest to God, it's not looking so good. "Mad…" he stops short and sighs, staring down at his feet as he mutters; "Sometimes good guys gotta do bad things to make the bad guys pay."

She sighs audibly, the hints of a sob in her voice; "And is this man a bad guy, Sam? Because it sounds to me like he got the same kind of treatment you guys did being put under this… Anson's thumb."

"You don't understand…"

"Oh, I understand!" She spits back, jabbing the butt of her cigarette against the plate that they'd converted to an ashtray. "I understand that this is insane! You… you just let him walk out of here knowing that he's going to _torture_ someone?"

"We don't know that, Madeline. He'll find another way." He has to find another way, damn it he's determined but he's not a monster.

"And if he does, then what? Because I've seen that look in his eyes, Sam. When he finds this guy…"

"Don't, just…"

"He'll tear him apart." Her voice shakes and she lights another cigarette, letting out her first drag with a high-pitched sigh; "We both know that he's not going to walk away from this clean."

Sam's quiet for a long moment, trying to find anything he can say to make things seem any better than they are, but she's right and he knows it. When Mikey finally does catch up to Anson, they'll be lucky if they even find parts of him. If he's lucky, he'll just kill him. Finally, he manages a sincere look up at his best friend's mother – watching her mascara spreading into the dark bags under her eyes, how long had it been since she'd had a good night's sleep? – and says; "He's good guy, Madeline. I promise, he's just been through so much…"

"Don't you tell me what he's been through, Sam. That doesn't mean he has to turn into some kind of monster. He's better than that."

"Yeah, well…"

"Well, nothing. We're gonna have to remind him that he's better than this."


End file.
